TONGUE TIED, mal oretsev.

01. YOURS TO KEEP

GENIE WAS NOT AN ALCOHOLIC, and yet for some unknown and totally unrelated reason, the bartender was refusing to serve her anymore. Not that she would remember anything tomorrow, but if she did, Genie wants to remember his name so she can complain to somebody... if she could remember who it was she was supposed to complain to—?

"How's the drowning your sorrows thing, going?" Lilia asks, the corner of her lips curling slightly upwards despite the glass she brings to her lips.

Genie turns to her with a glare prepared. But thanks to whatever was in those glasses, she finds it incredibly hard to open her eyes for a moment or two.

"I'm not, drowning my sorrows, you cheeky bitch." Lilia laughs, ugly laughs. "I'm facing the truth, and all that shit."

"Saints, Genie, I don't think I've ever heard you swear that much in the five years that I've known you."

The heart render quickly downs the rest of her drink before she replies.

"Well then, you clearly don't listen to me enough."

"Oh, you want to go there do you?" Lilia raises her brows, challengingly, although the air between the two is still humorous. "I've been telling you for how long to tell Marko how you feel, worst comes to worst you say it was a prank and that I made you do it to see his reaction."

Genie looks at her as though she's waiting for her to say she's joking. She doesn't.

"Well," Lilia picks her glass back up and faces forwards. "I was either gonna suggest that or that you were a lesbian."

She almost chokes on air, but clears her throat before it becomes too embarrassing.

    "You could always do what my therapist tells me to do." The dark haired girl suggests, pushing one of her long braids over her shoulder so that it was now reaching past the bottom of her back.

    "And that is?"

    "Write letters." Lilia replies, with no further explanation.

Genie didn't want to admit it, but it wasn't a terrible idea. Writing out everything you wanted to say to somebody without the anxiety bubbling in your stomach as you await their response, or maybe she could never send it. Or, send it and claim somebody else wrote it.

    "I like it." Her slurring words, indicating how drunk she really was.

Lilia looked as though her eyes were about to fall out of her pretty little head. "Are you joking?"

Genie was confused, an almost daily occurrence.

    "It's just— well, you never do what I say. I'm starting to think you should drink more often."

Lazily, and almost falling as she did it, Genie reached over and presses her finger to Lilia's lips much like the tracker had from before.

    "Lower...." She gulped. "Lower your voice. If dumb and dumber see me drinking I will never live it down."

    "Dumb and dumber?" Lilia asked, gently pushing Genie's finger away from her face. "Evgenia do you have other friends you aren't telling me about?"

    "Don't!" She practically shouts. "Don't call them my friends, it'll go straight to their heads." Genie shakes her head before turning to Lilia completely. "Now, do you have the parchment because I saw a quill behind the bar."

.:.

   "DONE!" GENIE SIGNS OFF, a smile of sorts on her lips as she closes over the envelope and writes a rather messy 'M' on the front of it. She passes the quill and ink back to the very confused and clearly underpaid barman before turning to Lilia.

    "Well, go on then, what did you write?"

    "Oh, you know... stuff."

She has a smile on her face, a mischievous look in her eyes and it doesn't go unnoticed by the tide maker.

    "Evgenia! You better not have!"

    "What?" She asks, feigning innocence.

    "You are far too drunk to be submitting your sexual requests to Marko through a letter!"

Genie frowns, and rolls her eyes.

    "Maybe you aren't drunk enough." She suggests, shrugging. "Is that the jacket he was wearing, over there?" She points to a First Army jacket on a chair that was, moments before, by Mikhael and Dubrov.

    "Genie, listen to me,"

    "I am listening! Now, stop being a fun sponge, and cover me." Lilia doesn't get the chance to respond, Genie's quick and she crosses the room in minutes. Shoving the letter in to the top pocket of the jacket, and making sure to leave the top of the pocket open, so that it was obvious something was inside, before she scurried back to her friend as a giggling mess.

"Uhm, Genie?" Lilia's voice is shaky and her friend looks up at her.

"What? What's wrong?" She quickly sobers up.

Lilia doesn't reply, instead she subtly points to the direction in which Genie had just returned from.

There, stood Malyen Oretsev. Tracker for the First Army, grabbing his jacket from the back of his chair and putting it back on.

"Saints." Lilia mutters, not seeing the look of horror on her friends face.

"I have to stop him."

"Uh— absolutely not! Sit your arse down before you pass out, Genie." Lilia demands. "I'll go and ask him if the jacket's his or if he's giving it back to somebody. Cough, cough, Marko?"

The world seems a little hazy and Genie's almost certain it's thanks to the ridiculous amount of beer she has consumed under an hour, but she nods as she stumbles in to a seat.

    "Oh, excuse me, Malyen is it?" Lilia asks, a small and convincing smile on her lips.

    "Mal, actually." He corrects, the same kindness in his eyes as she had remembered. "How can I help?"

    "Well, it sounds quite silly but, uhm, that jacket. Is it yours?"

He looks down and when his eyes come back up his brow is furrowed. "Yeah, it's mine."

    "Are you sure? It's not Marko's is it?"

For a moment Mal looks confused, and then he smiles and a loud laughter falls from his lips.

    "I see what you're trying to do!"

    "You do?" Lilia squeaked.

    "You can tell Marko, just because he manages to steal Dubrov's jacket, doesn't mean he can steal mine, yeah?" He turns back to say one last thing. "Oh, and tell him to play nicely, if we we're getting others involved in this I would've won by now."

Genie watches him from afar as he pats Lilia on the shoulder and leaves the tent to catch up to his two friends.

   "Oh, for fucks—"